


Come for Me

by irishavalon



Series: Come For Me [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Character Study, M/M, Masturbation, Post S6, Season/Series 06 Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-24
Updated: 2018-07-24
Packaged: 2019-06-15 09:58:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15410436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irishavalon/pseuds/irishavalon
Summary: "Keith drops into the pilot’s chair with a sigh. He is bone tired, but unable to sleep. He shuts his eyes, allowing his mind to wander to happier memories. He sees a man with all-black hair, standing before him. He smiles down at Keith, and his smile reaches his eyes. It also reaches Keith’s groin, and Keith groans at the youthful, happy image of Shiro behind his eyes."Keith finds a way to accidentally enter the Black Lion's consciousness. He hopes Shiro doesn't find out why.





	Come for Me

**Author's Note:**

> I messed with the timeline a little bit for this one. This takes place after the battle with Lotor in the last episode but before they abandon the Castle.

Keith stands at the base of the Black Lion, a bag slung over one shoulder. The hangar is quiet to the ears, but he can feel the patient hum of the lions, waiting to be of use. They seem to know what will be happening in just a few short hours, and he wonders how they feel about leaving their home. He wonders what he feels about it.

This is the paladins’ final night in the Castle. Most of the others are catching some much-needed hours of sleep; it has been a long couple of days for all of them. He thinks he heard Allura and Coran’s voices filtering out into the halls as he made his way here, though, so the Alteans at least are still awake. He can’t sleep, either.

His body is slow and clumsier than usual, and he feels exhaustion weighing him down. But as tired as he is physically, it has nothing on his emotional fatigue. His limbs ache with the memory of holding himself and Shiro’s clone against the platform. He still hears Shiro’s voice from the consciousness of the Black Lion, still feels the ghost of Shiro’s hand on his shoulder, and his heart twists with grief. 

His mind has kept him up for two hours, ever since the other paladins went to bed, ceaselessly straining under the weight of his guilt. There must be something he did wrong, some moment he let pass, some misstep that could have saved Shiro if he hadn’t taken it. It’s his fault Shiro is gone, he’s sure of it. He just can’t explain why. Shiro, who has looked out for him and protected him since he was young, a new member of the Garrison. And Keith could not return the favor.

He couldn’t stop Shiro from going to Kerberos, couldn’t save the older man when he was kidnapped by the Galra, couldn’t prevent him from being cloned and tortured. He rescued Shiro from the Garrison, but not before the trauma and amnesia he sustained from his captivity, and not before he was greeted by his former colleagues by being strapped to a gurney. He couldn’t save Shiro from being taken again, couldn’t rescue him before he was killed. He is still at a loss as to how to save Shiro, still trapped and away from him. He misses Shiro. He spoke to the older paladin barely six hours ago within the Black Lion, but he misses him still. 

It is an old ache, one Keith barely notices anymore. It is as familiar to him as Shiro himself. He missed Shiro when he was in class, more when Shiro was missing and could not save him from being kicked out of the Garrison. It was during those quiet, lonely nights in that old farmhouse on the plain when Keith missed Shiro most, curled up on his bed and clutching a jacket that slowly stopped smelling like Shiro. When they opened up the cockpit of the Black Lion to an empty chair, all Keith could think was  _ not again. _ But there was so much to do, so many enemies to hold off, that he did not have much time to dwell on that ache ever present in his chest while Shiro was missing again. 

It was one thing for the fruit of his longing for Shiro to be rewarded by a clone pummeling him into unconsciousness, and another thing entirely for Shiro to tell Keith himself that he was dead. It was one thing to know Shiro was dead and another to have a quiet moment to let that fact wash over Keith. 

_ You’re my brother. I love you. _

He had expected that to break through the other Shiro, even though he was Shiro in looks only. But it didn’t. And it wasn’t entirely true. But Keith could barely even admit to himself that Shiro meant something different to him, something more. 

Something like everything.

The Black Lion obeys his barely conscious thought and allows him access into the ship. Keith’s stomach clenches, the way it always does when he sees the empty paladin seat. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get over the terror and the screaming in his head of  _ no, not again _ when Shiro disappeared. 

He exhales long and slow, mentally shaking himself of that horrible memory.

_ I died, Keith. _

_ And _ that one. He climbs up the ramp and into the lion. He drops his bag in the corner and looks around at the other materials in the cockpit. It is more cluttered than usual, but usually they would be returning to the Castle before long. The clone, sealed in a healing pod, will be loaded into the ship just before they leave. Allura had promised they would find a way to get Shiro back--  _ truly _ back. Keith isn’t sure how, but he chose to trust Allura. It’s all he could do; the idea alone of losing Shiro forever threatens to rip him apart. 

Keith drops into the pilot’s chair with a sigh. He is bone tired, but unable to sleep. He shuts his eyes, allowing his mind to wander to happier memories. He sees a man with all-black hair, standing before him. No scar stretches, angry and red, across his face. No tuft of white hair grows stark over his forehead. He smiles down at Keith, and his smile reaches his eyes. It also reaches Keith’s groin, and Keith groans at the youthful, happy image of Shiro behind his eyes.

Keith lets the memory take on actions that never truly happened. He imagines Shiro reaching out a hand and stroking his cheek. Keith sighs, and his hand wanders to stroke against the bulge in his pants. “Shiro,” he whispers, his voice no more than a contented sigh. Pretend-Shiro presses closer. He doesn’t speak; he is all movement, as deliberate and careful as in life. Keith pictures strong, callused hands roving down his body, pictures soft, pink lips pressing against the delicate skin of his neck, and then his jawline, and finally his lips. Keith moans. 

Pretending his hand is Shiro’s hand, he tucks it into the waistband of his pants, wrapping it around his rapidly hardening cock. He rubs down the length of it, his breath hitching as tiny ripples of pleasure start to flow through him. “Shiro,” he says, a little louder than before, as the Shiro in his mind becomes more persistent, stroking him and kissing his neck and nipping at the rise of his shoulders. 

Keith’s breathing becomes more ragged, his strokes more desperate. Fantasies of Shiro escalate to the older paladin holding him close as Shiro ruts against him. “Shiro!” Keith exclaims, twisting his wrist and shifting in the chair. 

Keith strokes the tip of his cock with his thumb and thrusts his hand up the shaft one last time. A shudder of pleasure rips through him and pulls a keening cry from his lips that he realizes too late is a shout. “Shiro!” 

The image of Shiro behind his eyelids dissipates as it is replaced by blinding light. Keith sighs and opens his eyes, expecting to find himself slumped in his seat and looking out of the windshield of the Black Lion.

Instead he sees black and purple vastness, silence echoing and stars twinkling in the distance.

“Oh, shit.” He whispers, horror replacing pleasure as the murmured words echo into nothingness. His pants do not feel wet, as they should, but that doesn’t mean Shiro has not seen.

“Hello again, Keith.” 

Keith whirls around, heart jumping into his throat. He searches Shiro’s face, but the older man looks serene and unsuspecting. Keith cannot help letting out a relieved breath. He feels dirty, wrong. He told Shiro’s clone that he loved Shiro like a brother, and now very unbrotherly thoughts have sent him riding his pleasure into the astral plane. Keith knows this is not new; he has not thought of Shiro as a brother in some time. But he is not ready for Shiro to know this yet. 

“H-Hi.” He says, but Shiro just smiles his quiet smile, the one he’s had since returning from the Galra the first time. The soft, fond smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. 

Keith forgets the awkwardness, forgets that he was just masturbating to his dead, oldest friend in the cockpit of an alien spaceship (and really, how weird is his life now?). The exhaustion, the grief, the guilt comes washing over him once again, and he cannot breathe for a moment. He doesn’t know what he’ll do if this is the only way he can see Shiro from now on. He prays to gods he doesn’t believe in that Allura will bring him back for real. 

Until then, Keith feels himself reaching out to this metaphysical essence of his best friend. He swallows the sob buried in his throat. His stomach flips with the fear that he will be unable to touch Shiro on this plane. But then the tips of his fingers graze against the arm of Shiro’s suit, against solid-seeming fabric. Keith swallows again, stepping closer and not taking his eyes off Shiro. Shiro watches him back. 

Keith feels thirteen years old again, feels like the first time he saw Shiro again after the failed Kerberos mission, feels as he did when he laid eyes on who he thought was Shiro after they rescued his clone. He will not cry, he  _ must not  _ cry, but his heart feels like it will burst from his chest if he does not touch Shiro  _ now _ . He wraps his arms around Shiro’s waist and pulls the other paladin tightly against him, burying his head against Shiro’s chest. He cannot feel Shiro breathe, of course he cannot, but the mere touch of him is enough. 

Shiro barely hesitates before wrapping his arms around Keith in return, holding Keith against him. Keith can’t get close enough, but he keeps himself from pulling Shiro closer, clenching his hands tightly against the back of Shiro’s suit. 

“I will bring you back,” Keith says harshly, feeling the words cut against his tongue as he clutches Shiro like a lost child just found by his mother. “I promise.”

“You will find me,” Shiro says, and it sounds like a promise, too. “I will be with you soon.”

Keith opens his eyes in the cockpit of the Black Lion, slumped in his seat, and panting. 

_ You will find me. _

Keith brushes his hand impatiently against the tears in his eyes and tucks himself back into his pants. He sighs at the white liquid sticking to the dashboard and takes off his jacket to wipe it clean, hoping the group stop somewhere with a laundromat soon.

“Please don’t tell him about this,” Keith whispers, resting his hand against the control panel of the lion, as much a mental note to himself as to the Black Lion. The lion is silent, and Keith hopes that means she doesn’t know what he’s done, either. 

He wants to keep it that way.


End file.
